


Long Con

by the_consulting_criminal



Category: White Collar
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Hurt Neal, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_consulting_criminal/pseuds/the_consulting_criminal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Peter founds out what Neal did to get him out of prison (S5), his trust falters yet again.  This time, it's once too many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Con

_"Just because a person starts doing good things doesn't mean he wants to stop doing bad things."_   

* * *

_"Not everyone believes their own lies."_

* * *

_"There's nothing sadder than a conman conning himself."_

* * *

_"Neal, happily ever after isn't for guys like us."_

_"It is this time. It is."_

(Mozzie had looked sad, almost.  Now Neal understands why.)

* * *

_"The greatest lies a con man tells are to himself."_

* * *

_"You're living in a fairytale, Caffrey."_

* * *

_"You're the only person in my life I trust."_

* * *

_"Oh, come on Neal, you lie for a living."_

_"Not to you."_

* * *

_"Peter's been more of a father to me than you ever were!"_

* * *

_"We're all family, and you're part of that family.  But you're also a criminal.  It's exactly what you are."_

(He'd tried to laugh that one off, from Peter, but it stung more than he let on.)

* * *

_"You were trouble, ever since you came to work with me with your glossy smile and those annoying little hats!"_

* * *

_"'Cause you're a con! It's who you are, and it's all you'll ever be."_

(That had been part of a con, but in retrospect, it seemed all too real.)

* * *

_"A con is a rush, it's an addiction."_

* * *

_"You live on borrowed time, whether you end up behind bars or dead."_

* * *

_"Is your freedom worth dying for?"_

_"It might be."_

* * *

_"I want my freedom, any way I can get it."_

* * *

_"You flew too close to the sun, my friend.  They burned your wings."_

* * *

_"I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxicab of absolute reality."_

* * *

_"There's something I've learned. Things get stolen, people go away.  And most of the time, you don't get them back."_

* * *

_"_ _You relax once, let down your guard... It all goes away."_

* * *

_"I made sure justice was served."_

_"No.  That's what I do."_

* * *

_"They played me from the start.  The game was rigged."_

* * *

_"It's a move of last resort."_

* * *

_"Face it, pal, you would've done the same exact thing."_

* * *

_"You are everything that Keller says you are."_

* * *

_"Two bad guys, destroying all the good ones."_

* * *

 

***

When Peter woke up, it was to a pounding headache and the icy chill of the air winding itself under his clothes.  His arms were uncomfortably pulled up behind his back, and it only took him a few seconds to realize his situation and go still.  Kidnapping, clearly.  He tries to keep his breathing shallow, as if he's still knocked out, as his fingers search the bindings around his wrists.  Cuffs.  If he could just find something-

His thoughts are abruptly cut off by the press of cold steel to the back of his head in an all too familiar shape.  Gun barrel.  He freezes, straightening slightly as he forces his eyes open against the light.  Once he's adjusted to the room (it's not all that bright, actually--looks like every window in the warehouse has been blocked off, so the only light is from the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling), his eyes fall on the shape of his CI in a chair opposite him.  It takes a few more seconds for him to realize that Neal isn't bound, but sitting there of his own power and looking strangely emotional.  He's making no move to help Peter, and the agent clears his voice a bit before speaking.  

"It's a bit tacky to try and convince me he's in on this by threatening him from behind me."

His hands clench as he recognizes the drawl of the returning voice.  "Caffrey's here of his own free will, actually, Agent Burke.  Broke me out of prison himself."  Well, with a little bit of a nudge.  Neal had taken some convincing, but with Keller on the other end of the line talking into his ear, it was easy enough to get the younger, emotionally vulnerable criminal into his pocket and back on the right (wrong) side. 

Peter frowns, opening his mouth to deliver a sarcastic retort to the ridiculous comment before he notices that Neal isn't arguing the fact, simply staring at his hands.  "No. Neal, you didn't."

Neal doesn't look up at him.  "Yeah.  I did."

"He threatened you-"

"No.  I called him first."

Peter is silent for a long moment, reeling, before his eyes narrow.  "You're lying.  Neal, look at me."

Neal lifts his eyes, and what Peter finds there isn't reassuring.  It's hurt, an overwhelming amount of it, but also a cold sort of determination.  "No, I'm not.  But I'm sure you wish I was.  Funny how you never believe me when I'm being honest."

Keller walks around from behind Peter, smirking as he turns the gun over in his hand.  "Dug yourself into a hell of a hole, here, Burke."

Peter ignores him, eyes fixed on Neal with a stunned expression.  "What is this?  Why?"

Neal stares at a crack in the floor.  "You conned me, Peter.  You conned me for years, and I actually believed you.  Shouldn't come as a surprise, I guess.  My real father did it too, so it stands to reason that the person I considered to be his replacement would do the same."

The agent shakes his head, pulling slightly against the cuffs.  "What are you talking about?  I didn't con you, Neal-"

Neal looks up at him again and lets out a laugh that's more pained than mirthful.  "I have to admire the dedication.  Still trying to keep it going after you've been made.  Just like I would do.  But you did con me, Peter, let's not pretend anymore.  Please."

"I don't know-"

"Shut up!" Neal shouts, and it's a switch flicked so suddenly that Peter doesn't know how to react except to fall silent.  "I trusted you, Peter.  I trusted you more than anyone else in the world, and you lied to me so I would keep working for you.  I've done so much for you, Peter.  I sold out my own father to get you out of court, faked his confession to keep you from prison when I could do the same.  I've gotten shot for you, nearly died for you, but that doesn't matter.  Not really.  Because this is justice, right?  Keeping me on a leash and lying to my face to pretend that I'm not the FBI's little  _pet._  You'll be nice to me, tell me you think I can change, tell me I'm family, tell me you have faith in me.  You'll let me do things under the radar as long as you're in control and know you have me firmly in hand.  But the second I do anything at all for myself, or for you, that you're not in absolute control over, all of that flies out of the window and I'm the con man and thief and liar that I was.  None of that good stuff you say about me lasts for very long.  I thought that maybe, when I died, I'd have someone, for once, to speak at my funeral and talk about how good of a person I was.  You only say it to keep me here, to keep me on my tether because God forbid I ever actually manage to make myself a life!" he says, his voice continuing to rise even as his voice starts to crack.  "And you got everyone in on it.  Berrigan, Jones, Elizabeth.  Even Mozzie fell for it.  You've done everything you can to keep me here and on a leash."

Peter stares at him in shock.  "Neal, no, that's not... I've protected you.  I've lied for you.  I told you to run from Kramer-"

"Yeah, you did.  And you know what?  I could have gotten out, that day, could have been off my anklet.  Kramer could have tried to get me to go with him for whatever trumped-up charge he had, but you could have gotten me out of it.  I know you could have.  But you saw an opportunity, didn't you?  I go back on my anklet, again, for you, and you go back to being my handler while nobody trusts me enough to let me off."  

"I lost my job for that!"

"And you got it back.  No long term implications for you.  But I'm going to be stuck on anklet for a few more years.  Good for you, right?  Because you can't trust me.  And then you could keep an eye on me even while you give me a new handler to distance yourself from anything I do.  And, later, after the whole thing with Pratt and me getting you out, you get a promotion, and a job in DC waiting of for you so you can leave me behind.  And that all sounds great, to you--you don't even care about me, until you find out that I'm the one who got you off all of your charges _at your wife's request._ Then I'm the bad guy, again, even though I was willing to make my own father go on the run for the rest of his life and possibly even let myself go to prison as long as you were free.  You have no idea what I gave up for you.  I put myself on yet another leash."

"Another leash?"

"Hagen.  He bought off the DA to admit the evidence and have it verified so you'd walk, as long as I'd steal the coins for him.  But it didn't end.  He made me do more and more, threatened me with putting me in prison again, having the people I care about hurt.  I destroyed evidence so he'd go free, robbed a gallery, stole a window, did every single thing he wanted of me until he died.  I was his  _slave_ so you would be free, and it still doesn't matter to you, because stealing is wrong no matter the circumstances, unless those circumstances are dictated by you." _  
_

Peter doesn't know how to respond to that, reeling from the words.  And he can't say Neal's exactly wrong, even if Peter hadn't realized that's what the double standard had been at the time.  "Neal, I didn't know..." 

"Of course you didn't.  You didn't care to know, because that might cast Saint Peter _fucking_ Burke in a bad light.  Let me guess, now, Peter.  You do care about me.  You're so proud of me.  You think what I did was right.  You understand.  We're  _family,_ " he spits, shaking his head.  "I should've known I'd never be good enough for one."

Peter can't say any of what he was going to say, now, because it's clear that Neal doesn't trust him at all now.  Anything will just seem like an excuse.  "So, what, then, you're going to have Keller kill me?"

"I told Mozzie, weeks ago.  I'd cut the strings of all my puppet-masters, when the time came.  The time's here.  And when I go on the run, make my own life, there won't be an agent good enough to find me again."

Peter begins to panic.  At least when Neal had been talking, they'd been going somewhere.  "Neal, we can work this out.  We'll figure it out-"

"No.  We won't.  You're not in on any of my plans any more, and I already have things worked out."  There's a slight pause.  "I'm sorry Peter, but this is how things need to end.  At least you were right.  I'll only ever be a criminal."  

Keller raises the gun, and Peter starts to protest until the door to the warehouse gets kicked open and a sharp voice rings out.  "Freeze!"

Neal closes his eyes for a moment, before looking over at Keller and giving the slightest nod.  

_Pis aller._

A shot rings out.  Then two more.  

Two corpses are on the floor, one slumped in a chair, and in the quiet that remains afterwards, it's only the police left standing.  

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could say I'm sorry. But I'm really not.
> 
> Reviews welcomed.
> 
> (Updated for errors 6/18/15)
> 
> (Note 7/19/25; It's come to my attention that a few of the quotes are out of place in the timeline I was envisioning at the beginning, but I'm leaving them in anyways because they work.)


End file.
